Chapter 27
Leilani
Koby storms into the apartment, hair a mess, eyes wild, blood staining his shirt, neck, and hands.
My shoulders tense. He’s wearing violence like a second skin and doesn’t seem ready to stop. He doesn’t strip the soiled clothes off, doesn’t rush to the bathroom for a shower, just scans the room, searching for me.
My breathing slows, panic creeping in, but I calm down when he spots me and instead of rage in his stare, I see need. Raw, desperate, feral desire.
He charges right at me, dropping to his knees in front of the couch before I can say a word or close the book I’m reading. His big hands, knuckles torn, find my thighs and he drags me straight into his arms.
“Koby—”
The rest of that sentence gets swallowed by a brutal kiss. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, his fingers tangle in my hair, and he forces my head back to take more. The metallic taste of blood mixes with the tang of whiskey, and mint.
“What’s wrong?” I gasp when he breaks away.
Instead of an answer, I get his teeth on my lower lip.
He bites hard enough to sting, then sucks the spot and takes my mouth again.
He’s trembling against me, barely holding himself together, and his hands are everywhere at once, gripping my neck, sliding under my shirt, nails scratching along my spine.
“Koby, what’s wrong?” I try again, fisting his blood-soaked shirt.
“I need to be inside you,” he grunts against my throat, his arm crushing me against his muscular chest. “Fuck, I missed you.” He sucks a spot in the curve of my neck until I’m sure he’s left a red, angry mark.
“Anton’s calling tomorrow!” I whack his chest. “He’ll see!”
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re not his. You’re mine.”
He tosses me back on the couch, his body covering mine. His cock grinds into me so hard the seams of his jeans dig into my thighs. He does it again, and I moan, yanking his head down so I can suck a hickey right over his pulse point.
“You’re mine.”
“Jesus...” he grunts, wrapping his arms around me. With little effort, he pulls us upright, then lifts me into his arms, his mouth still glued to my skin. “Bed. Now.”
I don’t bother asking what’s wrong again. Something happened or he wouldn’t come home this bloodied and shaken up. He needs me to find equilibrium. To pull himself back from the rage seeping from him in palpable waves. I let him drop me on the bed, shamelessly turned on.
“Safe word,” he demands, dark eyes eating me alive.
I lift my eyebrow. “You still had a shadow of a bruise on your jaw this morning from when I punched you the other day, Koby.” Now it’s bright red. Someone aggravated the sore spot with a fist much bigger than mine. “If anyone needs a safe word, it’s you.”
“Pick a fucking safe word, Leilani.” He tears his belt free in a sharp motion. “We’re playing my game tonight. I need you to use a different word from stop if you need me to actually stop.”
That’s new. Koby’s always a hurricane in bed. Intense, demanding, dominating. And so am I. We’re both a little crazy, enjoying a rough, wild ride more than most, but it sounds like he’s about to push the limits.
I think he needs to lose himself in something sharper, darker, something all-consuming. Koby’s a restless being. Sitting still doesn’t come easy to him and tonight, I think if he stops moving, the weight of whatever left him soaked in blood will finish him.
He wants to drown the world out.
“Fine. Petal.”
His jaw tightens. I knew it would, he hates it when Anton calls me that. He hates every single one of those nicknames, but this one holds a special dark spot in Koby’s mind.
“Petal,” he repeats, pushing the word past clenched teeth. “Say that and we stop. Until then, you fight me.”
“Fight you?”
He wraps the belt around his wrist, stalking closer and the air changes. “You run, I chase. You fight, I take.”
This should be a red flag.
It should make my skin crawl with memories of being controlled. I should be scared. I should be triggered. He obviously wants to overpower me, but this isn’t about obedience. It’s different from what Anton wanted and all I feel is relief.
Koby doesn’t want me quiet, pretty, and docile. He wants those parts of me Anton nearly destroyed.
“Let out that rabid little thing living inside you. I want you feral. I want the girl who claws, bites, and tells me to fuck off, then kisses me like she’ll die without it.
” Another step. He’s almost at the bed now and my pulse hammers in my ears.
“Make me your villain, hellcat. Make me work for it.”
I scramble back across the bed, moving away when his knee hits the mattress and the belt slides from his wrist. There’s no trace of his usual let’s fuck cocky smirk. No, he’s absolutely feral.
And I’m drenched, flooded with a sudden, hot want when Koby looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
My heart’s pounding, breath hitching in my throat, heat pooling low in my belly. For a long beat, he doesn’t move, but when he lunges for me, I bolt off the bed, not a moment’s hesitation. My bare feet slap against the cool hallway floor, adrenaline burning through me like wildfire.
I round the corner into the kitchen, fingers scrambling for anything—anything—I can throw his way. All I find is an apple. It’s not ideal, but I whip it over my shoulder anyway. It thuds to the floor, so I grab another and this time, I aim.
Koby’s in the doorway, the apple bouncing off his chest. “Seriously? That’s your big move?”
“Stay back!” I snap, a little terrified and a whole lot thrilled when he moves.
“You wish. There’s nowhere to go, hellcat. I’m taking that pussy whether you want me to or not.”
Dashing right, I round the breakfast bar, running left toward the living room. I don’t make it far before Koby’s arm curls around my waist. A yelp tears from my chest. I start kicking and thrashing as he hauls me up, my feet dangling a foot off the floor, my back to his chest.
“Let me go!”
“Or what?” He pins me against the wall.
His hand covers the back of my head, saving me from a concussion. As soon as I’m safe, he’s back at it, his free hand settling over my throat, fingers splayed wide.
“What will you do?”
“Get off me!” Desperation fills my voice, elevating this fantasy that much higher. “Get off!”
Koby pushes his fingers into my sleep shorts and swipes two digits between my folds, making my eyes roll back into my head.
Still, the show isn’t over. We’re not there yet, so I shove at him with all my might. He gets in my face while my nails carve his arm, his jaw working in tight circles.
“You want to fight? I’ll give you a fight.”
I pause when he kisses me, hard and raw, but recover quickly, biting his already split lip. Blood fills my mouth and Koby hisses, his fingers tightening their hold around my neck.
I whip my leg, catching his shin. I could knee his balls, but his cock’s there and that precious cargo’s been off-limits since I discovered what it can do. How much pleasure it brings.
“I said let go!” I yell, pummeling his chest.
He doesn’t. No, he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder, slapping my ass. He doesn’t hold back force. It stings. It hurts and I’m fucking dripping for him.
“Keep squirming,” Koby encourages, his voice like gravel on a hot summer day. “Fight all you want. You’re only making this better for me.”
I bite his shoulder, sinking my teeth deep into the flesh.
“You little—” He tosses me on the couch like a ragdoll and pounces, pinning me with his weight.
We’re crossing a line. Lighting a match on purpose and I couldn’t be more turned on if I tried. He rips my sleep shorts down in one motion.
“Fuck you!” I spit out, heart in my throat even while I simultaneously arch off the couch to get closer to him.
“No, hellcat. Fuck you. Immediately.”
He shoves his fingers between my legs and then deep inside. My body sings, stomach tightens as his teeth scrape the shell of my ear, and pleasure fills my mind.
“So fucking wet. You love this, don’t you? Being hunted. Being caught. Being mine.”
I can’t breathe.
“Will you fight me once I’m inside you?” He unzips his jeans, freeing his cock. “Scratch me up while I fuck you?”
“Try me,” I spit out, but it doesn’t sound like a challenge anymore. I want him so much I’m ready to beg.
Thankfully, I don’t have to. Koby’s hunger knocks mine out of the water. He’s desperate as he yanks my panties aside, spreads my legs, and thrusts into me in one hard stroke so deep the world narrows to the snap of his hips and my wanton cry.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he grunts, pulling out and pushing back in. “So fucking tight. So fucking wet.”
He grips my throat again, hard enough to make me feel it but not hard enough to bruise. The other hand holds my thighs open as he thrusts faster, harder, his desperation at its peak.
“Mine,” he breathes against my lips. “Only mine.”
“Yours,” I gasp, arching into him, begging for more.
I dig my nails into his back, leaving red trails down his spine that throw gasoline on the fire burning within us.
“You were made for me. All that fire and spite. Mine.” He slams as deep as this position allows, his forehead touching mine. “Jesus... I need more, hellcat. Turn over.”
I move, flipping onto my knees, hands grasping the back of the couch. My pulse drums in my ears when Koby rips my sleep shorts at the seams, then my panties, leaving me bare and exposed.
“You look delicious like this.” He steadies my hips, pulling me back until my pussy lines up with his cock. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He runs a soft hand from the back of my neck all the way down my spine, then lands another searing slap on my already sore ass cheek.
This time he doesn’t soothe the sting. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back until my spine arches further, then he bends over me, close enough I feel his breath.
“Not so feisty now, are you?” he rasps in my ear, sinking into me inch by inch. “Fuck. What is it about you?”